Dalry part (1)

Fourteen years ago, a group of treasure hunters visited Dalry. The town was never known to have any hidden treasure, making the group's visit strange. Perhaps they were passing through Dalry and would be gone by tomorrow. The treasure hunters were gone the next day, but who could be happy? Those visitors dug up all the graves in Dalry, old and new. It did not matter to them if the corpse had not fully decomposed. How could they accomplish this in a single night? Whispers of them hiding people near the borders began to spread. Even worse, the idea of them having a necromancer among their ranks. A necromancer was more than they could handle. The best they could do was be distrustful of treasure hunters.

Arkyn was more than distrustful. Aykyn's mother had not rested for a whole month before the group unearthed her grave. The twelve-year-old boy could only watch his mother's rotting body as it lay outside her grave. All memories of his mother were where she was beautiful. Astrid, his mother, could have remained beautiful if it were not for those people. Treasure hunters were like a corrupt and unremorseful storm! Why? Why come to Dalry? That is the reason Arkyn became suspicious of Calypso. She was only one treasure hunter, but she could be the first to arrive. His beliefs did not hold up for an entire day. This woman was either an inexperienced treasure hunter or not one at all. Calypso's temperament often changed. She seemed turbulent and unsteady. Seeing her cowering before the crowd's gaze dispelled Arkyn's suspicions of her being a treasure hunter. "Are you not going to reply?" He asked. There was no use drawing this out. Treasure hunting was the closest description of what she was doing, and spelunking did not sound as cool. "I may not be a treasure hunter, but what I do is still none of your business."

Arkyn could not help rolling his eyes at the comment. Instead of replying, he approached one of the many bookshelves in the room. His search made Calypso finally examine the room they entered. It was a sparsely decorated office space, allowing the few plants in the room to stick out. Maybe because the room's owner was an elf? "Here," Arkyn said. His words drew Calypso's gaze to the book in his hands. After reading the text on the cover, she realized it was a Dalry history book. No matter how well-kept the book was, it was clear that it was an old copy.

Why would he hand this to her? Before either one could speak, soft knocks rang through the room. Shortly after these knocks, Calypso could hear Rye's familiar voice. "Young master Arkyn, your father wishes to speak with you."

There was no movement in the room. Although Arkyn was looking at the door and heard Rye's statement, he did not leave his position. "Ark?" Was he going to stand there all day? Calypso's inquiry grabbed his attention. "Read this book. When you visit other places in the future, read up a bit on their history." After saying this, Ark finally approached the exit and spoke to Rye in a low tone. By this time, Calypso already began to read the book.